fond of processions, impatiently expected the triumphant entry which emperors upon such occasions were accustomed to make their murmurs came to the emperor's ear; he loved his people, and was willing to do all in his power to satisfy their just desires; he therefore assured them, that he intended, upon the next feast of the Lanterns,(1) to exhibit one of the most glorious triumphs that had ever been seen in China.

The people were in raptures at his condescension; and, on the appointed day, assembled at the gates of the palace with the most eager expectations. Here they waited for some time without seeing any of those preparations which usually preceded a pageant. The lantern with ten thousand tapers was not yet brought forth; the fire-works, which usually covered the city walls, were not yet lighted; the people once more began to murmur at this delay; when, in the midst of their impatience, the palace-gates flew open, and the emperor himself appeared; not in splendour or magnificence, but in an ordinary habit, followed by the blind, the maimed, and the strangers of the city, all in new clothes, and each carrying in his hand money enough to supply his necessities for the year. The people were at first amazed, but soon perceived the wisdom of their king, who taught them, that to make one man happy, was more truly great, than having ten thousand captives groaning at the wheels of his chariot.

Adieu.

(1) ["The first full moon of the new year is the Feast of Lanterns, being a display of ingenuity and taste in the construction and mechanism of an infinite variety of lanterns made of silk, varnish, horn, paper, and glass; some of them supplied with moving figures of men galloping on horseback, fighting, or performing various feats, together with numerous representations of beasts, birds, and other living creatures, the whole in full motion.”— Chinese, vol. i. p. 306.]

LETTER XXIV.

THE VENDERS OF QUACK MEDICINES AND NOSTRUMS

RIDICULED.

From the Same.

Whatever may be the merits of the English in other sciences, they seem peculiarly excellent in the art of healing. There is scarcely a disorder incident to humanity, against which they are not possessed with a most infallible antidote. The professors of other arts confess the inevitable intricacy of things; talk with doubt, and decide with hesitation: but doubting is entirely unknown in medicine; the advertising professors here delight in cases of difficulty : be the disorder never so desperate or radical, you will find numbers in every street, who, by levelling a pill at the part affected, promise a certain cure, without loss of time, knowledge of a bed-fellow, or hindrance of business.

When I consider the assiduity of this profession, their benevolence amazes me. They not only in general give their medicines for half value, but use the most persuasive remonstrances to induce the sick to come and be cured. Sure there must be something strangely obstinate in an English patient, who refuses so much health upon such easy terms. Does he take a pride in being bloated with a dropsy ? does he find pleasure in the alternations of an intermittent fever? or feel as much satisfaction in nursing up his gout, as he found pleasure in acquiring it? He must; otherwise he would never reject such repeated assurances of instant relief. What can be more convincing than the manner in which the sick are invited to be well? The doctor first begs the most earnest attention of the public to what he is going to propose; he solemnly affirms the pill was never found to want success; he produces a list of those

who have been rescued from the grave by taking it. Yet, notwithstanding all this, there are many here who, now and then, think proper to be sick. Only sick, did I say? There are some who even think proper to die! Yes, by the head of Confucius! they die; though they might have purchased the health-restoring specific for half-a-crown at every corner.

I am amazed, my dear Fum Hoam, that these doctors, who know what an obstinate set of people they have to deal with, have never thought of attempting to revive the dead. When the living are found to reject their prescriptions, they ought in conscience to apply to the dead, from whom they can expect no such mortifying repulses: they would find in the dead the most complying patients imaginable; and what gratitude might they not expect from the patient's son, now no longer an heir, and his wife, now no longer a widow !

Think not, my friend, that there is any thing chimerical in such an attempt; they already perform cures equally strange. What can be more truly astonishing than to see old age restored to youth, and vigour to the most feeble constitutions? Yet this is performed here every day: a simple electuary effects these wonders, even without the bungling ceremonies of having the patient boiled up in a kettle, or ground down in a mill.

Few physicians here go through the ordinary courses of education, but receive all their knowledge of medicine by immediate inspiration from heaven. Some are thus inspired even in the womb; and, what is very remarkable, understand their profession as well at three years old as at threeOthers have spent a great part of their lives unconscious of any latent excellence, till a bankruptcy, or a residence in gaol, have called their miraculous powers into exertion. And others still there are indebted to their

score.

superlative ignorance alone for success: the more ignorant the practitioner, the less capable is he thought of deceiving. The people here judge as they do in the east; where it is thought absolutely requisite that a man should be an ideot before he pretend to be either a conjuror or a doctor.(1)

When a physician by inspiration is sent for, he never perplexes the patient by previous examination; he asks very few questions, and those only for form sake. He knows every disorder by intuition; he administers the pill or drop for every distemper; nor is more inquisitive than the farrier while he drenches a horse. If the patient lives, then has he one more to add to the surviving list; if he dies, then it may be justly said of the patient's disorder, that, "as it was not cured, the disorder was incurable." (2)

LETTER XXV.

THE NATURAL RISE AND DECLINE OF KINGDOMS, EXEMPLIFIED IN THE HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF LAO.

From the Same.

I was some days ago in company with a politician, who very pathetically declaimed upon the miserable situation of his country. He assured me, that the whole political machine was moving in a wrong track, and that scarcely even abilities like his own could ever set it right again. "What

(1) [In China the medical profession is at a low ebb. They are utterly ignorant of anatomy, and never think of attempting blood-letting, amputation, or any considerable operation. The eunuchs about the palace are generally accounted the most eminent practitioners; but the great proportion of acting physicians are to be found among the lower classes of the community, and the multitude of quacks and nostrum venders is immense. See Barrow, p. 341.]

(2) ["When a physician has been unsuccessful, he retires with the common Chinese adage, 'that there is medicine for sickness, but none for fate."" -Davis, ii. p. 282.]

have we," said he, " to do with the wars on the continent? we are a commercial nation; we have only to cultivate commerce, like our neighbours the Dutch; it is our business to increase trade by settling new colonies; riches are the strength of a nation; and for the rest, our ships, our ships alone, will protect us." I found it vain to oppose my feeble arguments to those of a man who thought himself wise enough to direct even the ministry. I fancied, however, that I saw with more certainty, because I reasoned without prejudice: I therefore begged leave, instead of argument, to relate a short history. He gave me a smile at once of condescension and contempt, and I proceeded as follows, to describe the rise and declension of the kingdom of Lao.

Northward of China, and in one of the doublings of the great wall, the fruitful province of Lao enjoyed its liberty, and a peculiar government of its own. As the inhabitants were on all sides surrounded by the wall, they feared no sudden invasion from the Tartars; and being each possessed of property, they were zealous in its defence.

The natural consequences of security and affluence in any country, is a love of pleasure: when the wants of nature are supplied, we seek after the conveniences; when possessed of these, we desire the luxuries of life; and when every luxury is provided, it is then ambition takes up the man, and leaves him still something to wish for the inhabitants of the country, from primitive simplicity, soon began to aim at elegance, and from elegance proceeded to refinement. It was now found absolutely requisite, for the good of the state, that the people should be divided. Formerly, the same hand that was employed in tilling the ground, or in dressing up the manufactures, was also in time of need a soldier; but the custom was now changed: for it was perceived, that a man bred up from childhood to the arts of